salesman, who looked away in embarrassment. "This is a public bench and you've got a right to sit here. I'll be back soon." Before she could answer I took off.
I raced down the street as fast as I could go. I had been a bit late already, and Peter may have already left for his 'job.' If he wasn't there I simply had no idea what I would do. But as I rounded the corner, I felt a wave of relief as I saw that he was still lounging on his front step. A few kids were waiting around, rather impatiently, wanting to get moving.
"Peter!" I said breathlessly as I came up to the step. "There's a woman back there that needs your help!"
"Really?" said Peter, smiling in that gawky way of his that made his lip piercings wobble. Then he winked at me. "Are you sure it's not YOUR help she needs?"
I frowned at him. He could be annoying and impossible at times. "No, she needs YOUR help, because she can't walk and has no home, and she's still half drunk and more than half starved--and she just needs help!"
He winked at me again. "All right, Katey-Matey, then let's you and me go help her!" I rolled my eyes. I hated it when he called me 'Katey-Matey,' which he'd started to do quite often lately.
"Be back shortly guys," called out Peter to the waiting 'gang' members. "Then we'll go over and help put up that wall I was telling you about." None of them seemed to mind his leaving with me, since putting up a wall sounded a bit daunting.
When we got back to Dorothy, she had moved back to 'her' gutter. I glared at the hot dog salesman (after all, I'd bought three of his hot dogs!), but he just looked away.
"Howdy, Ma'am," said Peter with a smile as he came up to her. Dorothy just stared up at him in surprise.
"You talking to me?" she said roughly.
"I don't see any other ma'am in any other gutter around here," said Peter, looking around in all the gutters. Dorothy screwed up her face in further surprise, then started to laugh. It sounded like a broken washing machine.
"Ain't you cute," she chirped. "Wanna get married?"
"Don't have the time," said Peter casually. "Kate here tells me you've got no home and can't hardly walk. Is that true?"
"Yep," said Dorothy, almost as if she was proud of it. "What's it to you?" Peter just shrugged. Then he pulled out a cell phone I had never seen before. I was surprised that it looked pretty fancy. He dialed a number and waited a second.
"Hello?" he said into the phone. "Delancy? I've got one for you. Yep, can't move. Needs medical attention, besides a place to stay." He suddenly looked around for a street sign. "We're on first street, near Highland. Right. See ya."
Dorothy was struggling to rise with a scowl on her face. "I don't know who you called, but I'm not waitin' around to find out," she said in a huff.
"Just the County Aide," said Peter.
"Humph!" sniffed Dorothy. "I been to them before. Don't like 'em."
"Good for you!" said Peter for no reason as he reached out and shook her hand. "We'll just wait a minute until they get here. They can help with that leg problem of yours, and it won't cost you a dime."
"Eh?" said Dorothy, looking at him curiously. She wheezed and coughed, then said, "Well ... I suppose I could let them take a look at it ..."
Seeing Peter in action had given me a sudden, brilliant idea. He seemed to always know just what to do and what to say when no one else did. And I knew of one person who I and others had been trying to reach for a very long time that maybe--just maybe--he could help.
May 28
Peter showed up at my house right on schedule. "Fancy place you got here," he said, looking all around in admiration as he came into our front hall. "Doesn't hold a candle to my house of course, but maybe with time you'll get this place there."
I smiled at his nonsense, since his house in Pittsburgh looked like it was about to collapse. My heart was giddy with hope that he could do something for Mom, so any idiotic thing he said would make me smile. Dad had hired a stream of specialists to examine Mom, but none had been able to help. Some had suggested that he put her in an institution. However he had steadfastly refused to do so, insisting he would look after her himself. It hadn't been easy on him, but with the help of the part-time nurse he'd hired he'd been able to get by. It had also helped when I came home from suicide watch to help out too.
"She's upstairs," I said, starting to head up. I had been staying with mom today, since I had arranged for the nurse to be gone when Peter came. I didn't know how she would react to him, since his strange and rather frightening appearance sometimes tended to worry people.
"Hold on there, Katey-Matey," he said irritatingly. "You haven't told me what this is all about." He looked at me expectantly.
"I did too!" I replied firmly. "I told you she just stares into space and doesn't say much. And she thinks I'm dead, even when I'm right there in the room with her." I put my hands on my hips, frowning.
He just shook his head. "That's not good enough. I know there's more to her story than that. I won't see her 'till I know what it is." He casually strolled over and sat on the couch. I was suddenly glad Dad was at work, since he'd probably freak out if he saw Peter in his black outfit with all his body piercings and tattoos lounging on his couch.
"There's no more story than that," I lied. "It just happened to her one day."
"What day?" he asked.
I looked down at the ground. "Just a day," I answered. "I just came home and it happened." There was an awkward silence for a moment. When I looked up he was smiling at me expectantly.
"And ..." he said simply.
What choice did I have? I'd never had any desire to tell him my story, and I felt uncomfortable and embarrassed to do so now. But it obviously had to be done, or he'd never go up to see her. And in a strange way, I knew somehow that he would not judge me or condemn me when he found out that I was the cause of my Mom's condition, and that I'd killed Jonathon. After all, this was Peter who accepted everyone just the way they were.
He just sat there patiently and listened. And I was right--he didn't seem surprised or shocked or disappointed when I explained about my abortion, and my haunting dreams of Jonathon, and then how Mom fell into her condition when she found out what I'd done. Then I explained about Mom's abortion where she thought she'd killed me, and how she was convinced I was dead. He just sat there and sucked on a butterscotch candy, making squeaky, annoying sounds with this teeth as he did so.
When I was finally done I looked at him expectantly. "Well?" I said rather harshly, my face red from the agony of reliving that horrid story once more. "Are you finally ready to go up, now that you know all the family secrets, and all about my horrible past?"
"Have you had a horrible past?" he asked in genuine surprise. I gritted my teeth. "Yes! I just told you! I killed my baby for no reason! And that caused Mom to fall into this condition of hers, and she's slowly dying too! And it's all my fault!"
He got smilingly to his feet and tapped me gently on the arm as he headed for the stairs. "You'll have to tell me about your horrible past sometime, Katey-Matey. I still can't figure where you get that idea from." Before I could answer his nonsense he bounded up the stairs two at a time and went into Mom's room, while I rushed to keep up with him.
"Howdy, Katey-Matey's Mom!" he said cheerfully as he charged into the room. "I understand you had an abortion and killed your baby! Is that right?"
I stood in the door so shocked I nearly fainted. What was he doing? How could he SAY such a disgusting thing?! Didn't he know approaching her like that would shock her horribly?
Apparently he did. She opened her eyes wide, staring at him. For a second there was an awkward silence in the room. Then she suddenly screeched, "Yes! You're right! That's exactly what I did! I killed my baby! My baby Kate! Finally someone believes me!"
Peter went over and picked up both of her waxy, dead-fish hands. "Would you like to see her, even though she's dead?" he asked intently. Mom's eyes suddenly filled w
ith tears and she nodded her head vigorously that she did.
"Now, don't be too surprised she doesn't look like a baby anymore," said Peter. "After all, it's been a long time since you killed her. 18 years, in fact."
"Has it really?" said Mom in surprise.
"Yes," he said simply. Then he nodded toward where I was standing in the doorway. "That's her over there. That's your baby Kate, only all grown up. What do you think of her?"
Mom's eyes just stared at me in a watery way. I bit my lip in frustration. This wasn't working! Every day for months now I'd come in and told her I was her daughter. What had possessed me to think that Peter could solve this problem, even with his weird genius?
"Kate?" Mom said in a shrill voice. She looked back at Peter. "That's Kate?" He shook his head that it was.
"But I killed Kate," she said, just like she always did. "I killed her, so that can't be her. Besides, I see that girl every day."
"Yes, you did kill her," said Peter casually, as if it really didn't matter. "You did indeedy. But she wanted to see you so much, she came back. In fact, she came back a long time ago. And then you raised her from a little girl. All those dreams you had about how wonderful it would be if your baby could come back came true! And you raised her, and there she is. That's why you see her every day. That girl is Kate. She loves you so much she came back from the dead. She came back from the dead because of